Life's Plan
by Midnight.Sylvia
Summary: “Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans”. Lilah hadn't planned to be the femme fatale. It was just something along of her life. Pre-Angel & Angel Season 3. Please R&R.


**Disclaimer: **Angel doesn't belong to me, if it did there's a list of things that would probably be different. There'd be more Lilah Morgan. Anyway, Angel does belong to David Greenwalt and Joss Whedon

This is my first attempt at Angel fanfic, so hopefully things don't go that badly. Watching some of the scenes with Angel and Lilah, made me think it would have been interesting if they had a back-story together … somehow. Anyway, the bold parts of this story don't belong to me; they're taken from the episode "Sleep Tight".

**Warning: **There is a theme of domestic abuse, and a small section has some violence occurring. Nothing graphic though.

_**Like a cat. Can't hear you … but I'm starting to be able to feel when you're near. Isn't that nice and creepy? How'd you find me?**_

_**Your assistant.**_

_**I'll have his arms broken.**_

_**Already taken care of.**_

_**And am I next?**_

_**You know Lilah, there are so many things I could do to you. With transfusions, I could keep you live indefinitely. I do have some expertise in this area. My own son. How could you?**_

_**It's my job.**_

_**Don't you ever get tired of the whole femme fatale act? Whisky, straight. Lots of it. How about just once you talk to me like a person?**_

_**Look I've been doing this a long damn time. I've had to be better, smarter, quicker than every man at Wolfram & Hart.**_

_**So it's a feminist thing. It's on her. **_

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans".

She remembered the first time she heard that quote, she found it to be interesting and compelling. But it was overall, an excuse. Lilah Morgan was the one who made plans, and nothing around her was going to change what she wanted for her future. Life would change its plans; she would be the thing that would happen.

_**It's a survival thing. I made a lot of devil's brgains, and I stuck to them. As a result, I live somewhat dangerously and quite comfortably. My mother, who doesn't recognise me, has the best room at the clinic.**_

Lindsay appalled her when she heard the comments he had made to Angel. The recorded comments, naturally. She couldn't believe the weakness of some people. He had sat comfortable, although at times dangerously tentative at the hands of Wolfram and Hart and this is how he behaved.

Everyone knew what they were getting to when they were being recruited and even more so when the signed up. Well, it was true then. When things get tough, the weak and the cowards get scarring.

_**I get up every morning, put on my game face and do what I have to.**_

She would very late after school in college; everyone thought it was strictly dedication that compelled to her to be like that. Lilah's behaviour often caused the mean valley girls to start vicious rumours about her. Nothing that these girls concocted come close to what her life was like. Lilah stayed not only out of dedication to the law, but to avoid her violent home life. Often her father would come home, completely drunk and bet his wife and daughter with his belt, until his wrist was sore. She tried to convince her mother to run away but nothing she could ever say would change her mother's mind. So she stayed behind in the comforting confines of the educational buildings she attending.

During thus time she did manage to find a genuine friend or two amongst the turmoil that was her life. Friends whom she was able to share the joys and sorrow of her life without fear of them being spread to anyone who was interested in gossip.

_**Thing about a game face, Lilah, you wear a game face long enough, it stops being something you can put on and take off.**_

Her mother was sprawled out on the ground, there was the dried marks of blood of her face; congealed blood now drying near her nose and mouth. Her head was leaning against the wall, and one arm was spread out against an odd angle at her side while the other now lay limply in what would have been a protective gesture.

Lilah had seen her mother in juried, but never this badly she realised with shock. Scurrying over to the prone figure, she did not feel the impact as her knees banged harshly into the ground. Checking for a pulse with clammy fingers, she was immensely relieved when she found one.

So focused on her mother, she failed to see her father sitting on the couch in the corner of the room. Completely sober, with a menacing gleam in his eyes. She didn't notice him, until she heard his footsteps directly next to her, and when she turned all she saw was the light reflecting on the metal crowbar bearing down on her.

"He's here. He'll help us", Lilah's mother whispered excitedly to her daughter one night.

"What are you talking about", Lilah demanded in a confused tone.

"About your father. There's an angel who will help us" she hushed on.

Lilah sighed, she had heard this before. About how this person will help us, this one person will do the job. Usually to was a worker who worked with AA, or some other such department. It would only work for a while. Once the person stopped visiting, the fierce beatings would start up even worse than before.

"This angel will be the one" she supplied as if sensing her daughter's disbelief.

The first time she had heard this she had felt hope. Time progressed and different heroes come and went, leaving her to realise that the only way that things would be changed was if they did something. Not someone else. Now the only thing she felt with this promise was defeat and embarrassment.

Lilah had come home after a long day of doing nothing. She did not want to stay at home, looking for the stains of blood in the living and she was unable to attend classes. The various cuts and bruises that marred her face, would be used against her. And the broken arm, and sprained ankle wouldn't be a good look for other people to know about.

She had been at the hospital all day yesterday, and was unable to find the courage to return at this stage. Her mother had been placed in an induced coma, the doctors had mentioned possible complications and for once in her life, Lilah was unable to recall a single word that had been said.

Walking straight towards her house, she was startled to find that the lights were on. Unable to run, as she would have, she limped in a hurried fashion making effort to note any potential hazards on the ground that could trip her. She didn't think her father would be idiotic enough to return, the threat of possibly being arrested was hopefully enough to keep him away. All her valued and treasured memories and possessions lay there, she hoped everything was okay.

Making it to the door, she fumbled with her keys. Inside her heard various loud sounds echoing throughout the room. Find the keys she quickly entered the house, to find her father being beaten by a man much taller than he. With one quick blow to the temple, the unknown man was able to subdue her father. As if sensing her presence, the man turns to find Lilah leaning against the wall, pale and worried. Flinching as if taking her worry personally, the man lays out a hand, a similar gesture that would be used on a startled animal.

"It's okay", he voices smoothly, "I'm here to help you and you're mother, from this … man" he assures.

Smiling with relief, Lilah realises this is the man her mother was talking about. And she feels something that she hasn't in a while, she feels hope. Hope that this time, things could be different.

She was waiting outside in the corridor of the hospital room, her mother occupied. Today was the day that they would be waking her up, and she was filled with nerves. There was some damage that had occurred to the brain, and they would no the full extent until she woke up. She wished for the millionth time that the man who was helping her family could be here, but he couldn't. She didn't want to burden her friends with her worries. And to be honest, she was tried of the complaints they were making about her. How of late she had changed, and not in a way that they liked.

A cough sounded from above her, looking up she found the concerned eyes of a nurse peering at her from above the clipboard. She did not like that sympathetic glance, she did not like a reminder of once again of how weak a position she was in. Glaring back in response, the nurse quickly averted her eyes and made a gesturing motion to follow her into the doctor's room down the corridor.

Entering the surprisingly Spartan room of the doctor, the nurse coughed and closed the door behind her. The noise surprisingly loud in the small room. The doctor was seated behind his wooded desk, a tall thin athletic man. Someone whom obviously meant business, someone who Lilah could easily admire. Except for the slight small nervous gesture in his hand, something small that could be easily overlooked. Detachedly she wondered what type of bad news she would receive.

"Miss Morgan, I honestly feel that there should be someone else accompanying you. Hearing news on the health of family members can often be - "

"Doctor, I'm of the legal age and I'm of right mind. Please don't sit here and insult me with what I can and cannot handle. Now what I want you to do is look down on your note pad and tell me what's going on", she interrupted having no patience to deal with a speech he had no doubt come up with a long time ago, and used on many families.

"Well, the damaged that occurred to your mother's brain happened in various locations. The prefrontal cortex -"

"I don't want doctor mambo jumbo speech. Just give me the gist of what things look like, okay".

"Well, physically she is okay. The main problem we have is with the trauma that happened with the brain. The … her memory is affected".

"Affected how", Lilah asked with growing fear.

"The type of being affected that would make her looking after herself practically impossible. The brains ability to store information, memories made has been compromised and it will only get worse. She'll need full time qualified help."

The doctor continued to drone on, filling in more details about the condition and any other information that she should know. Information that she wasn't hearing. Shock and worry was all that filled her presence, how would she manage things.

_**Wow. We have spent so much time and money on you … you're so pivotal to the coming cataclysms, I forget how dense you can be. The game face, the one I worked so hard to get, I became that years ago. Just like you've become simpering and good from yours. You're the poster boy for human. Thank you very much, I don't want it. **_

"It's okay", he voices smoothly, "I'm here to help you and you're mother, from this … man" he assures.

Smiling with relief, Lilah realises this is the man her mother was talking about. And she feels something that she hasn't in a while, she feels hope. Hope that this time, things could be different.

"Are you an angel?" she asked.

Filching the man turned away from her, and walked to the kitchen. Confusedly watching as he grabbed a towel and returned to her side. Grabbing her arm gently, she wrapped her wrist, stopping the flow of blood caused by a sharp piece of plaster.

"No, I'm not. But I can help you."

_**Speaking as one non-human to another, I'm sorry if I hit a nerve.**_

_**You think you can awaken some buried spark of decency in me? Is that they way you "help your helpless"?**_

She had been to the post office to collect the mail. There usually wasn't really anything of interest there, though today was different. In the box with no stamp was a letter addressed to her in beautiful cursive writing. It was angel, it was sure to be. Excitedly she drew up the envelope and tore along the panel.

Her eyes scanned the page, and the hopefully feeling that always accompanied him was dashed. The letter was told her that were things in his past that he had done, details weren't included, that he had to make up for. Right now there was a girl, who needed his help, and the time had come to help her. It felt like a sickening blow to the stomach, she felt like a constellation prize. Her life was just used to keep on person's mind off someone else.

She heard alarms rush by her, but she took no notice. Never noticed the tears rushing down her face, didn't even notice when they pulled in her eyes and made seeing difficult. Her half an hour walk home went by, without any attention needed.

Suddenly she felt something warm, settle on her check and burn the area there. Staring in front of her, she saw her house ablaze. Fire fighters struggled to control the fire. She was filled with the sudden knowledge that it would take hours to get this under control. All her memories, and precious items were gone.

As she stood on the day of her graduation, she took the words her guest speaker said to heart. Although let down by the mysterious angelic man in the long flowing leather coat, she would not do that to others. She would maintain the high level of law … she would uphold justice.

Nothing would stand in her way. She would do things her way.

_**I am not helpless. I'm glad you came along. I was feeling a little … "what's it all about?" And now I know. It's all about making the rest of your eternal life miserable. Shall we drink to that? **_


End file.
